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A picture I’ll never forget

On this day last year, after 63 years of marriage, my dad kissed his high school sweetheart goodbye. By the kindness of God, Beck and I were there — it was the final day of our annual visit.

The three of us kissed her one last time, gathered her things, and drove home. When we got there, Dad found a pen and wrote on his kitchen calendar. Then he stood there, lost in thought. That’s the picture I’ll never forget.

When I called him today, he was still thinking about her. “More than ever,” he said. “She was a special lady.”